


As We Dream By the Fire

by laudatenium



Series: I'm Burnin' (For You) [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wildfire, Anal Sex, And Steve's Okay With That, Blow Jobs, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Firefighter Steve, Insecure Tony, M/M, Possessive Steve, Protective Steve, Semi-Public Sex, Steve in Uniform, Tony Has A Past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:16:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2815019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laudatenium/pseuds/laudatenium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas in Malibu, Crew 91 has taken over, and people are assholes.</p><p>But Steve loves Tony, and is wearing his dress uniform.</p><p>Things aren't so bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As We Dream By the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “Winter Wonderland” by the Andrews Sisters (and so many others, but I love their harmonies).
> 
> Finally, some friends! I wanted to make Thor more than just a brute who says “POPTARTS,” so he’s an arson detective (he was a doctor sometimes in the comics, but arson is more fun). 
> 
> This could probably be read independently, but to understand the backstory, you probably need to read the previous ones.

Tony was wearing his third-best tux as he laid spread eagle on the bed, fussing with Steve’s necklace between the last two undone buttons and the unmade bowtie.

 

“Steeeeeve, let’s call in sick, I don’t wanna gooooo.”

 

“Sorry, but if you don’t go, Pepper’s gonna blame me for letting you play hooky,” Steve shouted from the bathroom.

 

“So?”

 

Tony heard the sink shut off, and the creak of the bathroom door opening.  “Can’t have her pissed at the both of us.”

 

“You little traitor-“ The rest of the retort died in his throat as he caught sight of Steve coming out in his dress uniform.

 

He groaned.  “Oh you have to let me blow you.”

 

Steve blushed slightly, but it wasn’t as intense as it used to be, as Steve was more used to Tony’s come-ons than he had been several months ago.  Tony had silently mourned the loss of Steve’s cherry-red blush, but it went hand-in-hand with Steve being used to him.  They’d been together for five months, five months since an out-of-control wildfire had threatened Tony’s house in the mountains, five months since an explosion had put severe burns in the center of his chest.  Tony still had some small part of his brain saying that Steve would wake up any day now and realize what a huge mistake this was.

 

But some bigger (and steadily growing) part told him that if Steve wanted to leave, he would have by now.

 

Tony hadn’t yet been blessed with the sight of Steve in his firefighter dress uniform.  Until now.

 

Now, Tony had salivated over Steve in his actual uniform, the one he wore when actually fighting fires.  It was lumpy and baggy without any regards to style, probably because it was supposed to be functional, but lose the jacket and Tony understood why firemen were such popular topics for calendars and strip teases.  Extremely tight (usually sweat drenched) t-shirt beneath wide suspenders and buff-khaki-grey pants striped with caution yellow, the entire ensemble just begged to be taken off.

 

 _But that dress uniform_.  Hot _damn._  

 

Tony didn’t know how long he was laying there, mouth agape, but it was long enough for Steve to recover enough to answer.

 

“Why do you want to blow me?  You’re the one who looks like you need it.”

 

He glanced meaningfully at the front of Tony’s tuxedo pants.

 

“Well,” Tony croaked with a very dry mouth.  “If you’re offering.”

 

With that Steve marched over like a man with a plan and pulled Tony to the edge of the bed.  Steve so rarely manhandled him, and Tony was driven crazy whenever he did.  With quick, deft hands, Steve had Tony’s cock out and licked a long stripe from root to tip.

 

“ _Ooooaaaahhhh_ , yes,” Tony groaned as Steve tongued the head.

 

Tony griped the back of Steve’s hair, too overwhelmed by _tight_ and _wet_ and _heat_ to care about messing it up _._   Steve was a natural at sucking cock, with no gag reflex and a clever tongue.  It was just so _dirty_ , having a literal Eagle Scout who regularly helped little old ladies with their groceries to have a mouth that looked like God had made it for wrapping around dicks.

 

Steve was staring up at Tony, eyes wide and innocent as he laved the underside of his cock, lips pink and swollen.  His jaw was relaxed, and took Tony as far as possible with each movement, throat muscles fluttering around Tony’s length.

 

He was already wound up, as they had been busy entertaining Steve’s friends the last few days and we’re allowed to get away as much as they wanted to.  (One time they had tried to rub off on each other in the pantry, Clint had walked in and had screamed, “MY EYES!”  Tony had been highly offended.  He and Steve were both hot as fuck, and there was no way Clint wasn’t at least bisexual.  But he had Natasha, so Tony couldn’t talk.)

 

He wasn’t going to last.

 

Steve’s hand moved to fondle Tony’s balls, tracing his perineum, and circling his hole.

 

“Come.  I’ve got you,” Steve whispered.

 

Tony came with a shout, cum flooding Steve’s mouth.  He caught every drop.

 

They sat there, Tony trying to catch his breath while Steve worked Tony’s orgasm in his mouth, swishing it around and savoring the taste.  Once he had finally swallowed, Steve pulled Tony down for a soft, tender kiss.  It was lazy, but just like all of Steve’s kisses, full of love and affection.

 

“Now, let’s get you put together,” Steve said, sounding far too casual for a man who just had Tony’s cock in his mouth.

 

 

 

When the decorators had come in on the Saturday after Thanksgiving to put up the decorations, Steve had nearly had a fit.  Said it wasn’t even Advent yet.  And that Christmas was a time that you did things for yourself.  So the decorators had been sent away, and Tony had to put up with a measly Advent wreath for two weeks, until Thursday, when Steve’s firefighter friends had shown up uninvited with their luggage, a spruce they had cut themselves (illegally), and several battered, dusty boxes of childhood ornaments.

 

Clint had announced that Crew 91 would be spending the next three weeks in Malibu with Tony and Steve, and they had best get ready for the best Christmas of their lives.

 

It was immediately clear that Tony had no tree stand, or any other decorations, in the house.  So Clint had dragged Steve out to the store, Bucky following them and promising to get video if there was food when they got back.

 

So Tony had found an unopened bottle of vodka imported from Russia specifically for Natasha’s purpose, and joined her in the kitchen and they tried to steal bits of Sam’s cookie dough as he complained about them not helping.

 

“But Sam, we’re helping ourselves,” Natasha said with a smirk as Tony choked out his vodka.

 

They clarified for him that, no, Steve was not a scrooge; he just liked Christmas to take place in the liturgical calendar.

 

“And it’s not Christmas in New York,” Sam offered.

 

Tony had suspected that.  Christmas in New York was the stuff they made movies about.  Tony had toyed with the idea of having cleaning crew prep the Mansion and try and make some new memories in the city that had held so much pain for the both of them.  But Steve wasn’t the type to need snow and the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree.  All he said he wanted was some fun with his friends and time with Tony.

 

Before the buff trio could get back, Tony called Pepper, Rhodey, and Bruce over, telling them there was going to be a tree trimming party with drunk firefighters and sugar cookies.

 

“Not if you keep eating them!” Sam yelled at the phone.

 

The party had been spectacular for only nine people.  Four beers in, Bucky and Rhodey got into a “Best James” contest, the prize was getting to plan Steve and Tony’s bachelor party (Tony had squawked at that, but Steve had looked unsurprised, so maybe he wasn’t going to leave anytime soon), and had ended with Rhodey falling off the diving board into the pool while Bucky tried to get his prosthetic hand untangled from some tinsel. 

 

Clint, seeing the number of people there, had decided that they had to decide who was Santa, and which reindeer everyone else was.  Tony won on Santa (he was creepy and had a lot of money), Steve was Donner (Captain of the crew = leader of the sleigh team) and Natasha was of course Vixen.  Clint tried really hard for them to get Bruce to be Dancer, until Pepper had seen the green around his eyes and had volunteered, saying the board kept her dancing like a monkey.  The Battle for Best James Part II began with Rhodey and Bucky arguing over who got to be Blitzen, and Clint called Cupid.

 

“‘Cause you’re a whore with a bow and arrow,” Sam quoted, before Clint yelled, “Shut up, Prancer,” and threw a roll of tartan ribbon at his head.

 

The night had ended with them crowded around the TV, watching _Rudolph_.  Clint had yelled at Steve for abusing his son, but Steve had been busy hugging Bucky and crying over “Misfits” to respond.

 

They had all woken up with raging hangovers (except Steve, fucking fast metabolism) and had agreed that it was the best Christmas party ever, even if their memories had gotten very fuzzy.

 

But tonight Tony had to make an appearance at some company holiday party, so there would be no Clint hanging from his legs on a chandelier, holding mistletoe suggestively over Natasha and making smooching sounds, before she kicked him in the throat (those two obviously had some _kinky_ sex).  At least Steve would be going with him.

 

They headed downstairs after Tony had recovered enough, and Steve had redone his hair.

 

When they reached the living room, the tree was lit up and reflecting off the windows, the star still crooked because Rhodey and Bucky had fought over who got to put it up. Natasha was curled up in a massive burgundy sweater while Clint perched on the back of the couch, giving her a fishtail braid.

 

“Going somewhere?  You assholes, you have guests,” Clint pouted.

 

“I didn’t invite you.  I don’t need to entertain you.  You’re either intruders or squatters.”

 

Clint and Natasha shared a look.  “Squatters,” they said in unison.

 

“So,” Natasha asked, “Where are you going that’s so important we can’t join?”

 

“Company Christmas party.  Or ‘Holiday’ to be politically correct.  There’s also some charitable aspect to it.”

 

“For what company?”

 

“Hell if I know.”

 

“Why can’t we come?” Clint whined.

 

Steve sighed.  “Because it’s for invitees and a plus one.  Tony got invited because he’s a patron.”

 

“I am?”

 

“Well, rich people throw the best parties, right?” Clint asked, standing up on the back of the couch.  Natasha quickly moved to sit on an armchair, probably to avoid the inevitable fall.  “We can show up, add some fireman flair, bam, best party of the year.”

 

“It’s twenty-three thousand per plate.”  Clint gagged on his spit and fell face-first into the couch.  Natasha deftly pulled he legs up to her chest, to avoid flailing limbs.

 

“ _Dollars?_ ” Clint spluttered.

 

“No, rubles.  What do you think, it’s ostentatiously for charity.”

 

“I take it all back,” Clint muttered, rubbing his head where he had banged it on the coffee table.  “Steve, you can sleep with the billionaires, I’ll stick with my sexy Russian.”

 

“You know I’m only with you because I can shut your hearing off.”

 

“You wound me, Nat.”  She stuck her tongue out.

 

“What’s all this?” Sam asked, he and Bucky coming in from the kitchen, carrying those giant metal tins of cheese popcorn.

 

“Headed out to a party, no, you can’t come.”

 

Bucky sniffed.  “Then that means we’re watching _It’s a Wonderful Life_ without you.”

 

“Noooo,” Steve complained.  That was definitely Steve’s favorite Christmas movie, as Tony knew from the eight times they’d already watched it.  Tony claimed he didn’t like it, but that was only because it made him cry snotty tears.

 

“He’s fibbing, Steve.  They just want to get drunk and watch _Elf_.”

 

Clint had resituated himself on the couch, digging into a barrel of White Cheddar Cheese flavor.  “You sir, are correct,” he said around a mouth full of popcorn.

 

“Well,” Tony said grandly, once Steve’s friends had all taken their seats and Sam was calling up the movie options.  “You know where the liquor is kept.  Just a word of advice, when the lights are off: make sure JARVIS doesn’t turn on the black lights.”

 

“Wha-?” Clint asked as the others shouted and jumped off the furniture.

 

“Revenge is sweet, sex is sweeter,” Tony told a laughing Steve as they waited outside for Happy to pull the car around.

 

 

 

They spent most of the ride in silence, Steve gripping Tony’s hand too tightly.  They had talked about how nervous Steve was.  Despite them being together for five months, this would be Steve’s first time as Tony’s date to a high profile public event.  In the last month since Tony had returned to Malibu, the gossip rags had carried several specials on the two of them, mostly dealing with Steve being a gold digger, because it was a well publicized fact that Tony Stark was no good at relationships.

 

But in all the photos that had leaked, they looked like a normal, dopey-in-love couple.  Walking to the car after a movie, Steve looking at Tony indulgently as Tony waved his arms around in his enthusiasm for dissecting the bad film science.  Steve laughing as they tried to get cotton candy out of Tony’s beard at Santa Monica Pier.  Greeting Pepper with hugs and kisses on the cheek as they met up on the outside of a restaurant for dinner.  Tony’s favorite was the set of photos of them walking down the street, Steve’s hand at the back of Tony’s neck as he pulled him in for a kiss.

 

While the media seemed against them, the public saw it as adorable.  Sometimes when Steve was splayed out on the couch in the workshop, he would pull up the comments on the gossip articles about the two of them, reading them in funny voices.  “OMG, so CUUTTTEEE!!!!!”, “I don’t kno which ass is best tho ;)”, “Stark better not mess that boy up”, “whens the wedding?”, and “can they adopt me?” were the main trends.

 

When they pulled up outside the hotel ballroom’s entrance, Tony squeezed Steve’s hand.

 

“Ready?”

 

Steve gave him a smile that looked like a grimace.  “No.  But I never will be.  So let’s do this.”

 

Still chuckling, Tony stepped from the car, already waving at the sharp snaps and shouts of “Mr. Stark, over here!”

 

They made their way down the red carpet quickly, stooping to pose but not for questions.  It was jarring, like always, the amount of attention, but Tony quickly slid back into the old armor of grinning and winking at the cameras.  At least with Steve there, his smile was more genuine.

 

And Steve was absolutely _perfect_.  He stuck close to Tony’s side, trying to avoid the spotlight of the flashbulbs, but failing miserably.  All the paps were here to see Tony Stark’s elusive firefighter boyfriend.  And he looked the part perfectly.  In his black dress uniform, with the gold buttons and red piping and service medals, the Public Safety Officer Medal of Valor he had gotten after 9/11 shining brightly on his neck, Steve looked every inch the American hero he was.  Tony felt inadequate, having this amazing man on his arm and everyone looking a Steve like _he_ was the lucky one.

 

Steve was looking at Tony like he agreed.

 

“Annnd, breathe,” Tony told him when they left the line of cameras behind.  Steve huffed and cuffed him on shoulder.

 

Pepper was waiting near the door, and greeted Tony with a kiss and Steve with a hug.

 

“How’s everyone?”

 

Steve chuckled.  “Drinking all the eggnog.  When we get back, the building will be ash.”

 

“Aren’t you all firefighters?”

 

“Pepper, drunken firefighters are just arsonists.  They think that if they can stop a fire, they should be able to start one.”

 

“You sound like you have experience with these things.”

 

“But s’mores, Pepper.  S’mores with marshmallows soaked in whiskey light up so well.”

 

They both laughed at that, and Tony was left to marvel at how well his PA/CEO/ex got along with his new boyfriend.  It was odd, but he could see their similarities in character.  Both were hardheaded and didn’t take any of Tony’s shit.  Both were overly concerned with Tony’s health.  Both felt Tony needed to show off that he was more than a rich genius.

 

But where Pepper got fed up with dealing with Tony’s personality quirks, Steve either loved them or was able to put up with them.  Tony and Pepper were too similar, and knew each other too well to have been successful as a couple.  Too much history.  Steve knew him well, but it wasn’t from years of forced interaction.  Steve hadn’t seen the bad years, which were most of them.

 

But Steve was the kind who never judged for things like that.  He only expected for you to be the best person you were capable of being from here on out.  It was a lot to want, but there was something about Steve that made you want to be better.  “The Captain’s Guilt” Sam had called it.

 

“It’s nice that you wore your dress uniform,” Pepper remarked.

 

“ _Very_ nice.  Merry Christmas to me,” Tony sing-songed.  “I have a uniform fetish, and a boyfriend who understands.”

 

“Tony, a firefighters’ family benefit is one of the charities being honored.  I wore it for that.”

 

Tony stopped bouncing in his shoes.  “What?  You had no plans to seduce me?  I am offended, Rogers.  Very offended.”

 

Steve rolled his eyes.  “The charity is an excuse to wear it, you know.”

 

“And I do not want to hear the rest of this.  Tony, make nice with the Shaws, we’re going to be talking merger with them in the new year.  Steve, just be yourself and they will love you.  Just stay close to Tony, or they’ll eat you alive,” Pepper warned.

 

They moved around the room, Steve plastered at his side as Tony greeted the people of importance.  (Tony reveled in how red Steve’s ears got when some of the women got too handsy.)

 

Tony had expected Steve not to know anyone (just because one of the charities was a fireman’s benefit didn’t mean _actual_ firemen went.  They would have set the place on fire with their sexiness), but while Tony was exchanging pleasantries with the president of a pharmaceuticals company and her husband, he heard a great booming voice shout, “Steven!”

 

“Thor!” Steve lit up.  “What are you doing here?”

 

Thor, a massive hunk of Scandinavian muscle with a perfectly coiffed blond ponytail, held his arms out and pulled Steve in for a massive hug.  “It has been too long since I have seen you, my friend.”

 

“You too, but it’s probably best that we don’t see each other, right?”

 

Thor rumbled – like literally rumbled – “You are right, my friend.”

 

Tony felt like throwing up.  Steve looked like a Greek hero, but this guy looked like a fucking _god_.  And he was pretty sure was the name of some Nordic god, too.  How did he measure up to that?  Why were all of Steve’s friends so hot?  Did fire attract heat?

 

Steve seemed to sense his distress, and pulled Tony in under his arm with a warm smile.  “Thor, this is my boyfriend, Tony Stark.  Tony, this is Thor Odinson.  He’s a forensic specialist in arson.  Once we get a fire under control, he comes in to see what started it.”

 

“Odd choice, arson,” he said as he shook Thor’s massive hand, momentary panic quickly abating.

 

Thor’s face slipped, and Thor had a smile like fucking sunshine daisies.  “Yes, but I feel it is my duty.  My brother loved to begin blazes, and when we were but young teens, he set fire to a house down the street.  It killed the entire family.  After he was imprisoned, I vowed to try and make up for what he had done.”

 

“How’s Jane?” Steve quickly cut in.

 

Thor smile returned – wider, if that was possible – and looked behind him.  “Jane, my love, Steven is here!”  He turned back to Steve.  “I am here to accompany her!  And see –“ Thor gestured proudly to a pregnant woman in a black velvet dress patterned with constellations waddling over to them, “- I have been successful in planting my seed.”  Thor waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

 

“Steve!” Jane reached out for a much less abrasive hug, “It’s been too long!  I know it’s last minute, but you, Sam, Bucky, Nat, and Clint will try to be at the wedding, right?  It’s going to be at my research facility in New Mexico, on Valentine’s Day.  Your boyfriend is welcome, too.”  She smiled at Tony.

 

“We’ll be there,” Steve quickly assured her.  “Just need an actual _invitation_ to iron out the details.”  Jane giggled.

 

“Your research facility?  What do you do?”

 

“My lovely Jane is an astrophysicist.  She insists that we wed under the stars, as the cosmos gleam on our union.”

 

Jane rolled her eyes.  “Not the phrasing I would use, but yes.”

 

“You’re getting married at night?  Oh, when are you due?” Steve squealed, and then he and Jane got caught up in wedding and baby details, gossiping like suburban stay-at-home mothers, leaving Tony to make small talk with Thor.  Who apparently didn’t do small talk.

 

“Anthony, I must commend you.  I use many of your company’s tools in my line of work.  You have helped me solve many cases, and avenge many deaths.”

 

“That wasn’t me-“

 

“Nonsense.”  Thor clapped one massive hand to Tony shoulder, and nearly knocked him over.  “Your creations save lives, and puts those who do not live at rest.  You are a noble man.  I see why Steven has fallen for you.”

 

“I’m not my company-“

 

“Steven would not give his heart to an unworthy man.”

 

They looked over at Steve and Jane, who was letting him feel the baby kick.

 

“I don’t deserve him.”

 

“Let Steven make the decision on who is best for himself.”

 

They stood there in silence for a moment, staring at their significant others discussed the pros and cons of satin versus chenille.

 

“Oh, Thor, I meant to ask you, are you getting anywhere with tracing Hydra?”

 

“Hydra?  What’s Hydra?”

 

“Hydra’s our name for one of the arsonist groups we have to deal with.  We put away their leader, Schmidt, a couple of years ago, but they’re still very active.  We’re trying to get them all taken care of, but they’re slippery.”

 

Tony frowned.  “Do you know who set my fire?”

 

“The Ten Rings.  They’re about as difficult to get.  They might be connected, but we don’t know.”

 

Thor looked solemn.  “Not much, my friend.  Neither of them.  You have been quite persistent in asking about the Ten Rings recently.  A strong desire to avenge your beloved, no doubt.”

 

“So,” Steve changed the subject, ears red.  “What brings you here?”

 

Jane piped up. “A fund for my work on the Einstein-Rosen Bridge got noticed, and I’m here to answer questions.”

 

“I am here as what Jane’s assistant Darcy calls ‘arm candy’.”

 

“Tony?”  Steve looked at Tony innocently.

 

“I’ll wire you fifty thousand in the morning.  More’s in it for you if you sit down with me and my friend Bruce and explain your stuff to us.”

 

Jane gasped.  “Really?!”  She lunged at him, enveloping him in a tight hug.  “Thank you so much!”

 

“No problem.  How long are you in town?  All of Steve’s other friends have taken residence on my couch.  Two more wouldn’t be awful.  You guys are more put together than the others.  You’re welcome at my place.”

 

“That depends on how much eggnog Brother Barton has consumed.”

 

 

 

Happy that Steve had found some friends, Tony decided to slip off and make his rounds.

 

He hated this, because parties were supposed to be fun, not filled with ass-kissing people who were useless except for their checkbooks.  Tony often complained to Pepper that he could buy and sell everyone at these sorts of soirées.

 

After he had greeted everyone of importance, he looked for Steve, because these people were boring (and ugly), and Steve was interesting and decidedly _not_ ugly.

 

Tony finally found Steve was over by the bar, sans Thor or Jane, holding what looked like a dry martini with two olives and a cocktail onion for Tony (as if he could love the man anymore?), but Steve looked about ready to drop it and flee from the woman who had cornered him. 

 

She looked familiar, but not important enough to remember her name.  She was pretty in an average beautiful woman way.  Dyed blond hair, overdone eyeliner, dress that bunched her boobs up to her neck.  Five years ago, Tony would have considered her.  But she was obviously threatening and sexually harassing Tony’s man, so she would have to go.

 

“Hey, Baby.  How are you?”  Tony asked as he slung an arm around Steve’s shoulders.  He looked momentarily surprised at the term of endearment, which neither of them used but in jest, but mostly he looked relieved.

 

“Tony, I was just coming to get you-“ Tony used the arm hooked around Steve’s shoulders to pull him in and kiss him open mouthedly.  Yes, maybe it was too much like marking territory, but Tony didn’t care.  Steve’s mouth still tasted of semen.

 

“So, sweetheart, who’s your friend?” Tony asked after regretfully releasing him.  “I don’t think we’ve met,” he said with poisoned saccharine.

 

“Tony Stark, you fucked me in a coat closet six years ago.  I didn’t know you were in the actual closet,” she sneered.  “I was just warning your boy toy here to consider the consequences before he just falls into bed with you.  Maybe he should choose someone better,” she leered.

 

Tony couldn’t look at Steve, didn’t want to see realization or disgust in his eyes.  Steve knew about Tony’s sexual escapades, but the only ex he had ever met was Pepper (well, Pepper was his only real ex, the rest were just sex partners) and she still cared about Tony, and was so supportive of his relationship with Steve.  But Tony had been careful of Steve encountering any of his old flings.  Because this might happen.

 

Steve was standing ramrod straight.  He didn’t even look at Tony as he put down the martini and said “Miss, may I have a word with you?  In private?”

 

He immediately swept her into a side door, which probably lead to the kitchens.  Tony didn’t even hesitate to press his ear to the door.

 

“I’m sorry, Miss.”  Steve’s voice was rigidly cold, like Arctic Ice.  “But seven minutes in heaven is not an adequate amount of time to get to know the true value of someone.  There is no way you know the real Tony Stark like I do.”

 

“Really?” she purred.  “There isn’t much to get to know.  He drinks too much, he sleeps with anything that has a pulse.  He might have kept you around a bit longer than others, but you’ll be off to the curb soon enough.  Might as well go while the gettin’s good.”

 

“PLEASE stop touching me.  I am in a committed relationship.”

 

“Tony Stark doesn’t do commitment.”

 

“Maybe not for you, but he does commit to something he believes in.  We’re both in this for the long haul.  His injuries just expedited the process.”

 

“Yeah, I hear Stark won’t even take off his shirt in front of anyone but his plastic surgeons anymore.”

 

“Well, I must have lost my memory of a decade or two of medical school.  I take off Tony’s shirt every night.  He’s gorgeous, even burned.  And I don’t know who you’ve been hearing from, but he’s all _mine_.  No one else is ever going to see that.  Ever again.  Now, I must warn you try and touch me inappropriately again, that _disgusting_ Tony Stark is all over me, if you wish to protect yourself.”

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

“You have no self respect.”

 

“I have loads of it.  And I have Tony.  And please, stop trying to kiss me with another man’s ejaculate in my mouth.”

 

The woman swept out of the passageway, shooting Tony a glare as she stormed away.  Steve followed her, leaning against the doorway.

 

“You heard all of that?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“It’s true, what I said.”

 

“They keep saying . . . and I don’t want you to believe that . . . .”

 

“That you’re a drunken playboy and I’m some sort of gold-digging summer romance bought by Justin Hammer to distract you?  Come on, Tony.”  Steve’s eyes were earnest, tone chiding.  “We know each other better than that to listen to what others say.”

 

“Right.”  There was a lump in Tony’s throat.

 

“I’m not lying when I say I love you.  I do.  I love you, I love being with you, I love the man you are.  Yes, you have a history, but everyone has one.  Just because yours might be slightly more, hmm, _colorful_ shall we say, it’s no reason to judge.  I’m looking at the man you are now, the man standing in front of me.  You are amazing, and I love you.  And I’m going to keep saying that until you believe me, and still after you do.”

 

“Sap,” Tony grumbled, but his heart wasn’t in it.  His eyes were moist, and he buried his face in Steve’s armpit.  A large hand gently carded through his hair.

 

“Now, I am going to take you in the hall, and fuck you until you scream.  So everyone will know you’re mine now.”

 

Tony shivered.  “Oh _hell_ yes.”

 

Feelings talk out of the way, Steve yanked Tony into the corridor and crowded him against the wall.

 

“My, my, you’re very pushy tonight.  I like it.”

 

“Shaddap,” Steve muttered into his mouth.

 

All too soon, Tony was moaning piteously as Steve traced the ridges of the roof of Tony’s mouth with his tongue.  Their breathing was rough and harsh from their noses, and Steve could barely muffle the steady growth of Tony’s noises as they rutted against each other’s thighs, and Steve’s hands moved to grip Tony’s ass.

 

Tony squeaked embarrassingly when Steve hauled him up to hold him completely against the wall.  He was forced to wrap his legs around Steve’s lower back to prevent them flailing.

 

“ _Steeeeeve_ ,” Tony moaned, too loudly, when he moved down to undo the bowtie with his teeth and set to work giving Tony a massive hickey.  Sharp teeth nipped harshly at his pulse point, soft lips and tongue following quickly after to sooth the sting.  Tony was forced to bite his thumb, drawing blood, to stop himself from screaming when Steve licked and nibbled around the chain of the gold medallion.

 

“No.  Let them hear you,” Steve whispered harshly.  Tony buried that hand in the gap between Steve’s skin and the collar of his uniform, and moaned like a whore, only a little for theatrical effect.

 

Steve rewarded him with shifting Tony’s weight into one arm and allowing his free hand to pull the tuxedo shirt out of Tony’s pants.  A large hot palm slid up, first grazing the mostly-healed burns to Tony’s chest, then down over his abs, making his stomach muscles quiver.

 

“You want this here, or should we wait until we get home?”

 

“Can’t wait for the _car_ , Steve, please, _now-ow-ow-oh_ ,” Tony groaned as Steve deftly undid his pants and stoked Tony’s aching cock.

 

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Steve teased when Tony swatted his shoulder weakly, too busy making the noises he knew Steve loved so much to respond.

 

Someone must have defiantly heard them by now, but no one had come running to get a view of the crazy hot sex that was about to go down.  Tony idly wondered if he should be offended.

 

Steve pulled his hand away from Tony’s cock, letting him whine until he felt Steve rifling through his pockets.

 

“You brought _lube_?  You have a Public Safety Officer Medal of Valor, awarded by the President of the United States, and you carried _lube_ to a Christmas Party?”

 

“You could say I have performed ‘actions above and beyond the call of duty’,” Steve snickered.

 

Tony opened his mouth to complain, but it was lost in a moan as Steve pressed a warm, slick finger into his opening.

 

“Ohhhh, _yes_ ,” he groaned.

 

Steve was usually very careful, always taking his time to stretch Tony and make things as comfortable as possible.  But what that horrible woman had said had obviously affected Steve, and he seemed frantic to re-stake his claim.  He barely allowed Tony to get used to a finger before he added another one.  Tony relished the burn.

 

Before long, Steve was wrestling with his own belt buckle, shoving his boxer-briefs down just enough to free his angrily red cock.  He spread the remainder of the lube over himself, then immediately thrust into Tony.

 

They both groaned.

 

Steve set a relentless pace, filling Tony completely with every thrust, making sure to hit his prostate every time.  Tony felt himself go boneless, letting himself be jostled against the wall with every movement from Steve.  Tony really liked fucking Steve, but he _loved_ getting fucked.  Steve was very happy with both, but usually ended up on top because Tony demanded it.

 

The slick glide of Steve’s huge cock thrusting into him as he breathed harshly on his face was one of the best feelings in the world.  Second only to Steve pulling him against him as kissing him softly before they went to sleep.

 

The only warning they had was a too-close giggle, when the swinging doors opened and admitted a laughing woman in a green dress and two men.

 

They stared for a moment.

 

“Excuse me,” Steve glared at them without slowing the relentless plow into Tony’s ass.  “It’s rude to stare.”

 

Tony decided to contribute a particularly loud whimper.  The trio fled.

 

“It’s gonna be all over the news tomorrow,” Tony slurred as his head lolled with every thrust.  “‘Tony Stark Bottoms’.  No, they’ll demand money first.”   

 

“Next time we’ll let them catch you fucking me, hum?”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Tony said as he kissed Steve on the nose.

 

When Tony came, Steve made sure to catch everything in a single hand before falling off, and adding his low groan of “ _Tony_ ” to Tony’s near-scream.

 

Tony came down to the sight of Steve licking Tony’s cum off his fingers like a cat.

 

“You’re such a cum-slut,” Tony sighed as he tried to remove the sticky strands of hair from his eyes.

 

“No arguments there.”

 

Steve rested against the wall, holding Tony up as they caught their breath.

 

“Maybe the next time I take you to one of these things I should wear a butt plug.”

 

“That’d be nice.  But for right now,” Steve’s tone turned predatory as Tony felt his cock twitch and nudge him again.  “Let’s get out of here.”

 

Tony felt himself shiver.  “I am completely okay with that plan.”

 

 

 

When they had righted themselves, tucked things back in their places, and made sure that Tony’s knees still worked, they walked out the door.  Judging from how no one was looking at them, they had all heard.  Mission accomplished.

 

Steve squeezed his ass.

 

“Say goodbye to everyone, and we’ll continue this at home.”

 

“Yes, Captain,” then: “‘ _Later on we’ll conspire . . . .’”_

**Author's Note:**

> Ohhh, the potential for actual plot!
> 
> The Public Safety Officer Medal of Valor is an award given that was given by the President to first responders in 9/11 who showed distinct bravery in 9/11 (as opposed to the 9/11 Heroes Medal of Valor, which was awarded posthumously to everyone who was killed), and I kind of feel Steve would be one of those people who would earn it. I have an unhealthy obsession with military and civil decorations.
> 
> Merry Christmas, or whatever the hell you celebrate! If you don't celebrate anything, have a good day.
> 
> I literally say "Aw, yis," out loud unironicly when I get comments.


End file.
